


This Nest of Sparrows 4 - Holiday

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-15
Updated: 2005-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-07 03:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: "Holiday"SUMMARY: The continuing saga of Millie Guthro and the World According to Jack.  You can get away from everything, but not without taking yourself with you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

  
Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - This Nest of Sparrows - Holiday

 

 

 

****  
_  
_

I watch, and am become like a sparrow that is alone upon the house-top. Psalms 102:7  
"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." - Dr. Seuss

*****

What the hell ever possessed her to do it, Millie Guthro would never know. There was no question but that she knew better. Her Grandmother had given her lessons in it when Millie had been a shy eight-year old. That being said . . . she did it anyway.

She picked up the phone expecting her friend Christy and got Jack instead. While that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, her own stupidity made it so. Because Millie, ignoring Granny’s long-forgotten lessons in telephone etiquette, lifted the receiver to her mouth and said, "So, should I shave the elastic on my bras or just give in and go buy new ones?"

There was a lengthy pause, during which Millie had time to recognize the error of her ways. Even her heartbeat seemed to slow as she waited, then prayed, for her friend’s soft chuckle.

Millie swallowed and licked her suddenly dry lips. "Christy?"

There was a hesitant, masculine, "Uh."

Oh God. What had she done?

"Millie?"

Holy crap! "Jack?"

In answer, she heard soft laughter. Jack had a good laugh. Normally, there were few things she’d rather hear. Normally. . . . Her face hot with embarrassment, Millie silently endured what felt like interminable laughter.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Um," he coughed softly, "I’m having some people over later." He laughed again, once. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to join us."

Of course, he was assuming that she’d ever be able to face him again. Sinking onto the sofa, angry at herself and her big, stupid mouth, Millie forced herself to sound calm, controlled . . . not mortified. Definitely not mortified. "Oh, I don’t know. What time and what for?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, it’s not an Amway meeting or something, is it?"

Jack chuckled again. "No. I leave anything resembling a pyramid to Daniel. It’s just a cookout. Everyone’s bringing something to eat. I’ll supply the music and beer."

"Well, okay. What do you want me to bring?"

"Dessert?"

Millie had to smile at the subtle begging. Jack loved her pies. So did Daniel. "Okay. I guess I can manage that. What time?"

"Six?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay. I’ll see you then."

"Oh, and Jack," Millie swallowed. When it came to humiliation, she was definitely a ‘shoot yourself before someone else has a chance’ kind of girl. "You didn’t answer the question."

"What question?"

"You know, about the bras."

Jack’s laughter was the last thing she heard before the phone went dead.

* * * * *

Millie pulled into Jack’s driveway, closely followed by a small sports car. As she crawled out of her car, she couldn’t help but notice the graceful manner in which Samantha Carter disembarked from her own set of wheels. Millie grimaced and walked back to open the trunk. She’d only met Sam a few times, but what little she knew of Jack’s female team member was enough to tell her that Sam was everything Millie wasn’t.

Sam was tall and slender, with long, lean legs. Lots and lots of leg. The kind men drooled over. She was blonde and pretty, smart and likeable, and probably brave, too, considering the fact that she was an officer in the Air Force. In sum, Sam was pretty much the opposite of Millie. Millie was short and scrawny, with dull brown hair and a plain face. She wasn’t stupid, but she was no whiz kid either, and she definitely wouldn’t categorize herself as likeable. Even worse, despite the mouth, she had a feeling that deep down lurked the heart of a true coward.

"Oh my God." Sam whistled as she stepped up alongside Millie, towering over her. "No wonder the Colonel wants your car. What is this a ‘57?"

"Fifty-six." Millie handed Sam a box containing two pies, and grabbed the second box herself.

"A Nomad, right?"

Grunting a ‘yes,’ Millie slammed the trunk. "Like the one . . ."

". . . MacGyver used to drive," Sam finished.

Millie smiled. Finally, someone who could appreciate the only decent show to have ever hit the small screen. Well, that and The Andy Griffith Show. "Exactly."

"God, I used to watch that when I was a kid." Sam hefted the box onto a slim hip and opened Jack’s front door, holding it open for Millie. "I’ll tell you a little secret. I used to think he was the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on."

"And now?"

"Well," Sam shrugged just as Jack came striding into the house from the deck. "Colonel."

"Hey, Carter. Millie, I’m surprised to see you here this soon."

Millie set the box down on the dining room table and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 6:30. "This soon?"

"Yeah, figured you had some shopping to do. Or was it shaving? I can’t remember." Jack smiled benignly as he looked in the box, studying the pies. "Coconut cream. My favorite. Carter, you haven’t lived until you’ve sampled Millie’s wares."

"Uh," Sam frowned, obviously still trying to figure out what the inside joke was about.

"God, Jack, you make me sound like a cheap Denver whore."

He lifted a pie out of the box and held it up to the light, admiring it. "I can attest to the fact that there’s absolutely nothing cheap about you, Millie." Jack set the pie down on the table and headed for the kitchen. "Besides, everybody knows you’re from Britain."

Sam studied Millie. "You’re British?"

* * * * *

Millie finally met Janet. She’d heard Janet’s name, and had even talked to her once on the telephone but, until today, she’d never met her and had never once guessed that Janet was the ‘Dr. J. Fraiser’ on the prescription bottles in the kitchen cabinet next to the sink. The real clincher was: Janet was short. As short as Millie. And she wasn’t blonde. Millie liked her instantly.

There was also Cassandra, Janet’s adopted daughter. From what Millie was able to learn, Cassie and Janet had been together for just over a year. Watching the group laughing and talking, it was obvious that while Janet might have legally adopted the girl, Cassie had unofficially adopted everyone else as well, especially Jack.

Then there was George Hammond. He was introduced to her as the General, but she found it hard to picture him as a military man. Everything about him reminded Millie of her Uncle Hermie, a simple rancher from the panhandle of Texas. When she was nine years old, she had spent the summer with Uncle Hermie, Aunt Grace and her two cousins, Jimmy and Junior, on their small cattle ranch about an hour northwest of Abilene.

Millie had fond memories of long, hot, dusty days spent gathering eggs, roping fence posts, skinny dipping in the cattle trough, and riding a gentle Pinto named Buck. She and Jimmy had passed the evenings swinging in the porch swing as they took turns reading aloud from the ‘Adventures of Tom Sawyer,’ playing tag in the dark, and catching lightning bugs. Uncle Hermie had punched holes in the lid of a jar, so that every night Millie could fall asleep to the soft glow of captured fireflies in a Mason jar on the table by her bed. And every night she’d dreamed of riding Buck, and how she would grow up to marry sixteen-year old Junior. They’d have lots of kids and horses, and would eat homemade ice cream every night.

When her parents had come for her in early August, Millie had cried as she’d watched the large farmhouse and barn disappear into the Texas dust. Three years later, Junior was killed when he’d rolled his pick-up truck on his way home from his girlfriend’s house. Uncle Hermie and Aunt Grace had stayed on the small ranch until the mid-1980's, then they’d moved into a retirement villa in Abilene and had quietly died a few years apart from one another. The last Millie had heard, Jimmy was an architect with a large firm in Dallas, and had been married and divorced twice.

"Earth to Millie."

"Huh?" She flinched, startled to find Jack standing directly in front of her.

"You okay?"

"Sure. Fine."

"You looked a little . . . lost."

She grinned at him and swatted at a buzzing fly. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Texas and homemade ice cream."

Jack stared at her blankly. "Okay." He paused and Millie was reminded of the Grand Canyon scene from the movie ‘Vacation.’ Jack looked a little like Chevy Chase, staring out over the vast crevasse for the requisite ten-count before forcing everyone back into the station wagon with dead Aunt Edna strapped to the roof. "Daniel wants to ride in your car."

Millie searched his too-innocent face. "Daniel."

"Wants to ride in your car." Jack grinned. "So . . . can he?"

"Sure." Millie smiled just as innocently. "As soon as he comes and asks nicely."

Huffing softly, Jack crossed the deck, yelling at Murray to leave his grill the hell alone.

"I see you’ve caught on to the Colonel’s tricks." Millie glanced over to find that Janet was standing beside her, smiling. 

"Yeah. He’s an evil ten-year old trapped in the roughed-up body of a forty-something man."

Janet laughed softly, then sipped her beer. "So, what do you think of the rest of Jack’s friends?"

"The rest of?"

"Sure." Janet frowned slightly. "You do realize he’s told us all about you? He even quotes you."

" _Really_?" Millie glanced over at Jack, who was whispering to Murray as he threw odd glances in her direction.

"I believe my particular favorite is: ‘Never eat where you can buy underwear.’"

"The only time I broke that rule, I paid dearly." She looked back at Janet. "He talks about me?"

"He thinks you’re funny."

"Oh." Well, that sounded about right.

"That’s very important to him."

What? Someone to laugh at? One of the guys? Millie forced a smile. "You’re a doctor, huh?"

"Yes."

"So tell me, is Jack awkward or something?" At Janet’s blank look, Millie continued. "Well, I mean, the guy’s constantly getting hurt in ‘training accidents.’ What’s up with that?"

"Um," Janet paled slightly. "Well . . . hey, Sam! How about a game of volleyball?" She smiled back at Millie. "Do you play?"

* * * * *

"Get the damn ball, Brit!"

Millie stretched as far as she could, but her short arms failed her and she hit the ground hard, sliding to a stop mere inches from the row of thorny rose bushes. Grimacing, a stabbing pain shooting down her left hip, she forced herself to her knees. Ow! Crap! That hurt. Slowly, she stood on unsteady legs.

"Are you okay?" Janet rushed over and stood in front of her, a soft hand on each of Millie’s arms. "Maybe you’d better sit down."

"I’m . . .," ow! Millie forced down a groan. "I’m fine. Really."

"Dammit, Fraiser, drop the doctor routine. She’s fine. Aren’t you, Brit?"

Millie glared at Jack. "Call me that again and you’ll scrub your own bloody toilet!"

Jack flinched and looked at Sam, then very slowly and deliberately reached under the net and gently shoved his fellow officer. "What the hell were you trying to do anyway? Kill her?"

"What?" Sam looked genuinely contrite. "I . . . no! I . . . you’re the one who told her to get it, not me."

"Well you’re the one who slammed the ball clear over there. So just . . . stop doing that. She’s a civilian, for crying out loud."

"Hey!" Daniel protested.

Yeah, okay. Millie was fairly certain these people were going to be the death of her. If they didn’t pummel her to death in a seemingly innocent volleyball game, they were going to drive her to the brink of suicide. She glanced up at George, who was sitting on the deck, contentedly sipping a glass of iced tea and then over at Cassie, who was _supposedly_ playing volleyball. The young girl met Millie’s gaze and blushed; obviously, Millie wasn’t the only one who realized that Cassie had only volunteered so Jack would shut up. The girl had yet to make a move for the ball. Despite the reputations of Jack’s team members, Millie was beginning to think that the oldest and youngest members of the group were the smartest ones here.

"So, Bri–uh, Millie, you going to play or just stand there?" Jack smiled, then chuckled softly. "You know, with the light hitting you just so, you and Fraiser look like a couple of garden gnomes."

Millie heard Daniel mutter ‘oh, God’ under his breath and saw Sam jerk as if Jack had struck her. George set down his glass with a loud clink and Cassie gasped. Murray simply turned his back to them.

Millie stared at Jack a moment, then faced Janet. The Doctor’s face had hardened into sharp little angles and her cheeks were entirely too red. With her back to her boss, Millie smiled and spoke softly. "You want to back me up on this?"

It took a moment for Janet to realize that Millie had spoken. When she did, her eyes met Millie’s. For a brief moment, the women studied each other, then Janet gave the barest of nods. "Go, girl. I’ve got your six."

Millie frowned, not sure what that meant, but she assumed Janet was saying she’d follow her lead. "Coming, Jack," she yelled over her shoulder, then turned to go back to the game. Millie took two steps before dropping to her knees, clutching her side and groaning loudly. "Ohmigod. Oh, oh."

Janet knelt beside her. "What is it? What’s wrong?"

It was hard to keep a straight face. In truth, if it hadn’t been for the fact that her left hip was screaming in protest, Millie was afraid she’d have lost it completely when Jack cursed and launched himself towards the Evil Garden Gnome Twins. Seeing him coming, Millie cranked it up a notch by laying back on the cool grass, and rocking and moaning.

"Oh, Janet. It hurts. Ow."

Janet rested a sweaty hand on Millie’s neck. "Just hang on. Don’t pass out on me, now, do you hear?"

Good idea. "I think . . . I think I’m going to pass out."

"Shit. Doc, what happened?" Jack knelt over Millie. Still clutching her side, she groaned loudly, feeling slightly guilty at the look of fear on Jack’s face. "Do something, dammit!"

"Just calm down, Colonel."

Her eyes squeezed down to tiny slits, Millie was aware of the others standing over Janet and Jack, their faces tight and pale. Oh crap. Maybe she shouldn’t have done this.

"Millie? Millie, honey, can you hear me?" Janet leaned close, her voice serious but humor lighting her dark eyes.

She nodded. "Y–yes."

"Don’t try to move, okay? Colonel? Sir, I need you to carry her into the house."

"Yeah. Okay."

"I will carry her."

"No! Te–Murray, just," Janet motioned at the others with her hands, "everybody just stay back. Let the Colonel do it."

Millie heard Jack’s knees crack as he scooted closer. His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, sounding very close to the voice in her daydreams. "Millie, I’m going to lift you now. If I hurt you, you just let me know, okay? We’re going to do this nice and easy."

"Okay."

He leaned so close that Millie could feel his warm breath on her neck as he slid his arms beneath her shoulders and under her knees. "You doing all right?"

"Yeah."

"Good girl. Just put your arms around my neck, okay?"

Millie nodded and slipped her hands around Jack’s warm, tan neck. He grunted a little as he stood, but Millie had to give him credit . . . he lifted her as if she weighed next to nothing.

"Here we go." So saying, he turned and carried her inside the cool house. Figuring she might as well enjoy the moment, Millie let her head fall against his solid chest. His scent was intoxicating, a musky combination of sweat and charcoal smoke and the liquid soap he showered with. "Hey, you doing okay?"

"Mmm." Oh, yeah. She was doing great. Well, her hip was hurting a bit, but it was entirely made up for by having Jack’s arms wrapped around her. Damn, she was going to have to cook more often. She swore she could feel one of his ribs digging into her side.

"Your room, please, Colonel," Janet directed.

Too soon, they were in Jack’s bedroom. Very gently, he lowered her onto what Millie knew was his side of the bed. Oh yeah, baby! Then, he stood up, watching closely as Janet sat down beside her. Janet rested a hand on Millie’s wrist as if taking her pulse, then glanced up at Jack.

"Uh, sir. I need to examine her. Maybe you should . . ."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Janet motioned towards the hallway where the others had gathered.

"Oh." Recognition dawned on his face. "Oh! Yeah. Okay. If you need anything, holler. Okay? I’ll be right outside." He moved out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him.

As soon as it latched, Janet began giggling. "Did you see his face?" Still snickering, she opened the drawer in the bedside table and reached far into the back, pulling out a crumpled pack of Marlboro Lights with a pack of matches shoved inside the cellophane. Millie scooted into a sitting position, her back against the headboard, and wondered how Janet had known they were there. Janet shook out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply. "Damn," she mumbled in relief. Then, looking at Millie, she offered her the cigarette.

"No, thanks."

"Good for you. These things are killers." Janet wandered over to the window and pushed it open, blowing the smoke outside before leaning back on the windowsill. "So, how did you meet the Colonel?"

"Oh, um," Millie shifted her weight, trying to ease the ache in her hip, "I answered his ad for a housekeeper. That was a few months ago, early in the summer."

"That was Sam’s and Daniel’s idea. They tend to think Jack is helpless."

"But you don’t."

Janet snorted softly and inhaled again. "Are you kidding? I’ve read the man’s file. Trust me, Jack O’Neill is anything but helpless. It’s an act, albeit a damn good one. The guy should win a friggin’ Academy Award."

"Why do you–"

A soft knock on the door interrupted them, along with Jack’s muffled, "Everything okay in there?"

"Everything’s fine, sir. I’ll be out in a minute."

"Is Millie all right?"

"I said, I’ll be with you in a minute." Smiling, Janet shook her head and rolled her eyes. She waited a moment before mumbling, "Garden gnome my ass."

Millie grinned. "I feel kind of bad for him, actually. I probably shouldn’t have done that."

"Are you kidding me?" Janet disappeared into the bathroom and Millie heard the toilet flush. The Doctor returned without the cigarette. "It’s the most fun I’ve had in weeks. And he totally deserves it. I’d trust that man with my daughter’s life and I wouldn’t trade knowing him for anything but Jack can be a complete and utter shit. I have absolutely no idea how his wife stood him all those years."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know." Janet gave a gentle smile, taking the sting out of her harsh words. "But he’s sweet on the eye, huh?"

Millie laughed but didn’t answer.

"So, sister gnome, what’s the diagnosis? Nothing too unbelievable. The guy’s not nearly as stupid as he lets on."

"What’s with Sam? Is she married or engaged or anything?"

"Sam? Hell, no. Not unless being married to your career counts. Sam is . . . very focused."

"And Daniel?"

"Daniel." Growing serious, Janet shoved the pack of cigarettes back in the drawer. "Daniel’s married but his wife . . . well, she’s missing, presumed dead."

"Oh, God. That’s terrible."

"Yeah. And Murray’s married with a son, but his family lives in another country. Me, I’m happily divorced. _Very_ happily, I might add. The General is a widower. His daughter and two grandkids live here in the Springs. And I guess that’s it, the whole motley crew."

"I cracked something."

"Okay. We’ll tell him you cracked, what, a rib?"

"No, I mean it. I really think I cracked something."

Janet’s face grew serious. "You’re not kidding."

Millie shook her head, grimacing at the pain still shooting through her hip.

* * * * *

Grunting softly, Jack eased her onto the seat of her Nomad then leaned back slightly and studied her face. "You all right?"

"Yeah. But explain this to me again." She held out the keys to him.

"I told you, your car is the only one big enough."

"You have a huge pick-up truck."

"Um," he twirled the keys, "it’s too high off the ground. You wouldn’t be able to climb in and out of it. You’re hurt, remember?" He walked around the front of the car and climbed in behind the steering wheel.

"I didn’t climb into this one, either. You carried me, _remember_?"

He started the car and looked over at her. "Shouldn’t you be . . . shutting up or resting or something."

"Janet was right," she mumbled. Jack could be a shit.

"About what?"

Millie glared at him. "That this was going to be painful."

He squinted at her, obviously trying to figure out her meaning.

"Hey, you two." Janet leaned in the open driver’s side window. "I’ll meet you at the emergency room."

"Sure you don’t want to come with us, Doc? It’s a sweet ride." Jack revved the motor and slipped the gear shift into reverse, obviously in a hurry to leave.

"No, I need my car. Sam’s going to take Cassie home."

"Janet," Millie peeked around Jack, "I really think this is a waste of time."

"Listen up," Jack gave Millie the same look that he probably gave new recruits, "you’re going. If Doc says you need an x-ray, you need an x-ray. She’s a doctor, for crying out loud. She knows what she’s talking about."

"But I–"

"Aahh!" He held up a hand. "Decision’s made."

"Uh, thank you, sir. And you’re probably right, Millie. I’m sure it is a waste of time. You probably just have a bone bruise, but we need to be sure. So, I’ll see you there."

As Jack drove towards the local hospital, Millie sank down in her seat. She couldn’t believe this. She was totally embarrassed and humiliated. Daniel and Murray and Sam were probably having a good laugh right about now. Well, maybe not Murray. She was beginning to think he never laughed about anything.

Jack rolled up his window and turned on the headlights. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I’m just dandy. Thank you very much for asking."

"Listen, I’m sorry you got hurt."

"Why? It wasn’t your fault."

"It wasn’t anybody’s. It was just an accident."

Millie snorted softly.

He glanced over at her. "What?"

"It was my own damn fault."

"How so?"

Millie shrugged, currently the only guest at her pity party. "I should never have gone."

Jack was quiet for a long time and she was beginning to think he agreed with her. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "I’m sorry. I thought you’d have fun."

"What, you think I don’t have any friends of my own? I need you to throw me a bone?"

" _What_?" He shook his head and she saw his fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "Dammit. You . . . crap! That really pisses me off. You think I invited you because I feel sorry for you?"

Millie didn’t answer. When he said it out loud, it sounded childish and petulant. She really hoped she was neither of those things.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I like your company? That maybe I thought you’d enjoy hanging out with my team? That they might enjoy getting to know you?"

She chewed on her lip. She kind of hoped her hip was broken. Maybe it would make her feel better. "You like my company?"

"Right now?"

She figured they both knew the answer to that one. They drove on in silence. As she stared out the windshield, the lights of the hospital appeared in the distance.

"Jack, Sam’s a scientist. Daniel speaks a bunch of languages. Murray’s . . . well, I’m not sure what Murray is, to be perfectly honest. Janet’s a damned doctor. And you . . . well, I don’t really know what you do either, but I’m sure it’s important. I, on the other hand, clean your house. I scrape icky, green, moldy stuff from the inside of your refrigerator and make sure you’re stocked up on toilet paper."

"Which I appreciate, by the way. But what is your point?"

"My point is, you guys are . . . I don’t know. You’re out of my league."

"You’re in a league?"

"Don’t be an ass, Jack. You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don’t. I just thought you were a person, like the rest of us. You know, someone who puts on her pants one leg at a time, who takes a dump occasionally, and farts when she thinks no one’s around. Somebody who’s funny and obnoxious and smart and has guts. I didn’t realize you were in a league."

"Me? Smart?"

He shrugged.

"You think I’m smart like Sam?"

He barked a laugh. "Hell, no. No one’s smart like Sam. But, trust me, she has her blonde moments."

"And I have guts?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"You jump out of planes, right? I’m afraid biscuit tins will explode in my face, and I kill spiders with hairspray and a hiking boot."

"You, too?" He waited until she stopped laughing before continuing. "You quit a good job because your boss was a jerk. You stand up for what you believe in and you make your own way. You don’t depend on anyone but yourself. And, you scrape that icky, green, moldy stuff from my refrigerator. I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole."

Jack stopped the Nomad in front of the emergency room doors and got out, walking around to her side of the car. When she opened the door, he knelt down beside her.

"Brit, you are who you are. Don’t measure yourself against other people. You get into their skin, they’ve got problems, too. Trust me. I’ve . . . well, let’s just say I have some unique experience in that area. Besides," he squeezed her shoulder, "I really do, you know . . . well, I mean, you’re sort of growing on me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "And I don’t mean growing like that icky, green stuff either."

"Damn, Jack. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me."

"What can I say? I’m an old softie." He slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her out of the car.

"You don’t have to carry me. I’m pretty sure I can walk by myself."

"You know, Brit, for some reason, I have absolutely no doubt about that."

Smiling down at her, Jack cradled her against his chest and carried her inside.

**< fin>**

  


* * *

  


> Author’s Note: For Jake – my best friend for 26 years and he still likes   
> everything about me...even the bad stuff.

* * *

> © January 2005 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate   
> (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko   
> Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and no money   
> exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters,   
> situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be   
> posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

  



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